


good things come to those who wait

by punk_rock_yuppie



Category: Buzzfeed: Worth It (Web Series)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Dirty Talk, Established Relationship, Long Distance Relationship, M/M, Masturbation, Phone Sex, Podfic Welcome, Rimming, Sexual exploration, mentions of blowjobs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-19
Updated: 2018-07-19
Packaged: 2019-06-12 17:27:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,313
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15344841
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/punk_rock_yuppie/pseuds/punk_rock_yuppie
Summary: Tonight is different.Alotdifferent.





	good things come to those who wait

**Author's Note:**

> hannah wanted phone sex, because andrew's voice is just made for it, and i live to make her happy. so! have some long distance relationship standrew with lots of dirty talk. thanks to hannah for beta'ing, ofc!
> 
> enjoy!

Steven stares down at his phone nervously.

Any minute now, it’ll light up with an incoming call. It always does. It’s their _thing_. Ten o’clock on the dot, his time—seven o’clock, Andrew’s time. Late enough that they’ve had time to eat and decompress after work, but early enough to leave them plenty of time to chat before one of them starts yawning. It’s a good system, a good routine. Steven loves it. He doesn’t think he’d be enjoying New York nearly as much without it.

Except tonight is different.

A _lot_ different.

 

 

It had started the last time Steven flew back to L.A. for shooting. He and Andrew had been practically inseparable, not only because of filming but simply because they didn’t _want_ to be far apart. Every night, Steven went home with Andrew, and every night, they fell into bed together.

It was the night before Steven’s last day in L.A. when Andrew proposed his idea.

“What if we tried phone sex?” He had murmured against Steven’s neck. One hand on Steven’s chest, the other curled around his cock. They’d barely taken the time to get their clothes off before they got their hands on each other.

Steven shuddered at the thought and had come suddenly, staining their stomachs with release. “Oh,” he’d breathed after his orgasm faded.

Andrew just smiled.

 

 

His phone starts to vibrate in his hand and the screen lights up with a picture of Andrew and Riceball. He slides to answer and brings the phone to is ear.

“Hey,” he says. His anxiety is still clawing in his chest but the thought of talking to Andrew settles it slightly.

“I can hear your nerves all the way across the country,” Andrew says instead of a greeting. “You know there’s no pressure.”

“I know!” Steven insists. “God, you just jump right into it, don’t you?”

Andrew sighs. “Sorry, babe. Hi.”

Steven smiles to himself. “Hi.”

“You have a good day?”

They make a few easy minutes of small talk, and the longer it goes on the less nervous Steven feels. Even when silence lapses and he knows what’s coming, he doesn’t feel as scared as he did when he answered the call.

“We really don’t have to do anything,” Andrew says.

“I know,” Steven replies. “I want to. I’m just nervous.” He and Andrew have fooled around plenty—just thinking of it makes Steven’s face burn. They haven’t gone all the way, at Steven’s request, but they’ve touched and tasted and teased. This is new ground, just like handjobs were new ground once, just like blowjobs were new ground once. Steven takes a deep breath.

“Steven?”

“Sorry, just thinking.” Steven gnaws on his lower lip and distracts himself by toying with a loose thread on his blanket. “I really want to do this.”

“Okay,” Andrew says easily. “Want me to start?”

Steven nods before remembering Andrew can’t see him. “Yeah, please.”

There’s a rustling on the other end, and Steven’s breathing deepens as he listens with anticipation.

“I love you,” Andrew says suddenly.

As always, Steven’s heart leaps in his chest. “I love you too.”

“I miss you.”

Steven leans back and settles against his pillows. “I miss you too.”

“I miss kissing you.”

Steven raises a hand and brushes his fingertips over his lips. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. You make the cutest noises.” Andrew’s grinning, Steven can hear it in his words. “Love to get you under me and just kiss you for hours.”

Steven sighs at the thought. He thinks back to the last time Andrew flew out to New York and they spent hours making out on Steven’s new L-couch. Steven had come in his jeans just from Andrew’s mouth on his, tongues sliding together and hands wandering overtop clothes. “Yeah,” he agrees. “I like it too.”

Andrew lets out a soft laugh. “Trust me, I know.” His words are teasing but not mean, a knife’s edge in between the two and he knows exactly how close to cut it. “What’re you wearing?”

Blushing, Steven drops his hand to fiddle with the hem of his sweatshirt. “Uh.”

“You don’t have to make anything up,” Andrew says, teasing once again.

“A sweatshirt,” Steven replies honestly. “And my boxers.”

Andrew hums on the other end of the phone. “Will you take off your sweatshirt for me?”

“Yeah,” Steven answers immediately. “One sec.” He tosses his phone onto the bed and sits up enough to yank off his sweatshirt. He falls back into the pillows lower than before, more on his back than sitting upright. It’s as he’s settling on top of the covers and reaching for his phone again that he realizes he’s half hard.

“I’m hard,” he breathes into the phone when he’s got it under his ear again.

A strangled half-gasp answers him. “God, Steven,” Andrew groans. “Me too.”

Steven bites back a whine. “Keep going. I like to listen.”

There’s a smirk curling around Andrew’s next words, but it’s tempered with his more labored breathing. Steven is hardly the only one affected between the two of them, and to know he’s having that effect on his boyfriend—it’s _dizzying_.

“I wanna spread you out on your bed and take my sweet time marking you up. Kiss you from head to toe. _Bite_ you from head to toe.”

A phantom pain throbs on Steven’s shoulder: Andrew’s favorite spot to torment with his teeth and tongue. “Yes,” he sighs. His eyes flutter shut and his grip on his phone turns tight enough to ache.

“I’d get between your legs—fuck, I love your legs, Steven, they’re so fucking long—and I’d just _wreck_ you.”

Steven whimpers and spreads his leg on the bed. He can almost feel the familiar heat of Andrew against him, pushing at his inner thighs. “Wish you were here.”

Andrew moans softly, an agreement. “You’d look so pretty covered in my marks. Once I was done I’d finally touch you properly. I’d get my hand on your cock.”

Steven inhales sharply and his free hand wanders to the waistband of his boxers. “Can I touch myself, Andrew?”

“Yes, Steven.” Andrew’s reply is swift but strained. “Touch yourself.”

Steven slips his hand into his boxers and holds his dick by the base. “I want to suck you off,” he admits in a burst of lust-fueled confidence. He’s done it twice now, each time less awkward than the last, but the urge hits him suddenly and strong. His mouth waters and drops open as he gasps for air.

Andrew lets out a noise like the air just got punched out of him. “Christ, Steven—!” There’s a thud, then the distinct sound of a zipper being drawn down.

“Are you—?”

Andrew groans, “ _yes_.” Slick sounds, quick and tight, filter over the line.

Steven whines and strokes himself slower. “Will you keep going?”

Andrew inhales sharp and deep. “Yeah, yeah.” Steven listens to his boyfriend’s breathing slow, his strokes as well. “I want to get my hand on your perfect cock, and I want to eat you out.”

Steven gasps. “F-fuck.” He stumbles over the swear word as it tangles with a breathless keen. “You want to do that?”

Andrew laughs. “Of course I do. You’ve got a great ass. I want to get my mouth on it.”

Steven tilts his head back and lets out a wordless cry. He speeds up on his own dick, using precome to slick the way.

“I’d get you on your back and haul your pretty little ass in the air.” Andrew’s voice has dropped an octave and it sends sparks of pleasure skittering through Steven’s veins unexpectedly. “I’d throw your legs over my shoulders, so I can get my tongue against your hole.”

Steven shudders. “I don’t—what does it feel like?”

“You’ll love it,” Andrew assures. “You’re so sensitive, you’ll lose your mind over it.” The longer he speaks the sharper, more gravely his tone turns. “I’d stroke you nice and slow and work my tongue into your ass. You’d scream for me, Steven.”

Steven doesn’t scream, but he does cry out. It’s raspy and harsh, broken and desperate. “Andrew, shit.” His phone topples out of his grip and lands on the pillow instead. “I want—I want you to do that.”

“Gladly,” Andrew answers. “Are you still touching yourself?”

“Yeah.” Steven tilts his head and looks over to his bedside table where he knows a half-empty bottle of lube sits. He’s tempted, suddenly feeling empty.

“Steven?”

“Sorry, sorry. I was—I was thinking of grabbing the lube.” Steven inhales. “For my fingers.”

Andrew sucks in a breath that almost sounds wounded. “You wanna?”

“Mhmm.” Steven rolls over quickly and kicks out of his boxers at the same time. He dribbles lube over two fingers before settling on his back again. With his clean hand, he puts Andrew on speaker. “Can you hear me okay?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Cool,” Steven says breathlessly. “I need both hands.”

They share a laugh but it settles quickly. Steven listens to Andrew’s heavy breathing as he spreads his legs and slips his hands between his thighs.

Steven’s done this a few times before, had shyly admitted as much to Andrew during a heavy petting session. He imagines his fingers are Andrews’ every time, and wonders if he’ll ever work up the nerve to ask for it.

“Wish I could see you,” Andrew murmurs. “Bet you look beautiful.”

Steven moans softly as he slips one finger into himself. “Andrew—!”

“You do,” Andrew insists, heading off Steven’s insecurity before it can permeate the conversation. “You always look so gorgeous, babe. I could stare at you all day.”

Steven’s remark of _“you do”_ dies on his tongue as his finger skirts his prostate with practiced ease.

“Can’t wait to see you like this,” Andrew continues. “You’d look so good fucked out on your own fingers.”

Steven wraps a desperate hand around his cock and starts to stroke quickly. He slips a second finger in alongside the first a little too soon, and it burns, but he pushes past the discomfort. “Wish it was you,” he gasps out.

“Yeah? You want my fingers?”

“Yes,” Steven whines, “please.”

“Whatever you want, babe, you know I’ll give it to you.”

Steven pushes his face against the pillow, dangerously close to his phone. “M’close.”

“Good,” Andrew says softly. “I want you to come for me, babe. Wanna hear you.”

Steven pants for air as he works his cock, moves his fingers slowly inside. He wants it harder, faster, but he can’t manage it at this angle—he makes a mental note to ask Andrew for that, when the time comes. He closes his eyes tight and lets his imagination wander; he imagines Andrew’s fingers inside him, Andrew’s tongue, Andrew’s _cock_.

“Oh, god, _fuck_ ,” Steven moans into the pillow as he starts to come. “Andrew, _Andrew_ —!”

“That’s it,” Andrew guides gently. “You’re doing so good.”

Steven feels tears prick at his eyes as the sensations overwhelm him. He jerks and chases both sensations: being filled by his fingers and fucking into his slightly slicked grip. He writhes on the bed and rucks up the sheets, and he’s distantly aware of his phone sliding off the pillow and onto the bed.

Steven comes down slowly and draws his fingers out with a wet noise; he makes a face, looks around, and grabs an old tee off the ground to wipe his hand off. He does the same with his come-splattered hand and cleans off his stomach.

Still breathing heavy, he rummages around to find his phone, and lets out a sigh of relief to see the call hasn’t disconnected—he’s rolled on top of his phone and dropped a call before.

“Andrew?” He asks softly, bringing the phone off speaker and to his ear again.

“I’m here,” Andrew answers, voice strained. “God, you sound like… Fuck.”

“I can’t wait to see you again.” Steven shimmies under his top blanket and tucks the light fabric around him. “I want to do more.”

Andrew grunts, and it sounds like a plea to continue.

Swallowing his nerves, Steven does. His voice isn’t gravely or deep like Andrew’s; it’s not sexy, not to Steven, but he knows Andrew loves him, thinks he’s hot, knows he’ll love this. “I want you to finger me next time we’re together. And I want to suck you off after. And someday, I want you to fuck me, hard and f-fast.” Steven takes a moment to catch his breath, reduced to gasps by his own nerves.

“Fuck, Steven, _shit_.” Andrew lets out a low groan, following by several short, pitchy moans. There’s a moment of stark silence, then a gasp. “Stevie, babe, babe,” Andrew pants heavily as he chases the last threads of please. He lets out a deep sigh of contentment as his orgasm starts to wind down, a sound Steven is very familiar with by now.

“God, I love you,” Steven whispers.

Andrew snorts. “I love you too.” His voice is sweet and sleepy. Genuine. “Gimme a second to clean myself up.” There’s a thud of the phone being dropped followed by silence as Steven waits. It doesn’t take long, and Andrew returns with a pleased sigh. “So, good idea?”

Steven rubs his face against his pillow to let the cold material chill his flushed skin. “Great idea.”

“I’m glad,” Andrew says, fond. “Not too much?” He asks cautiously.

“No,” Steven replies immediately. “It was so good.” He holds the phone close. “And I meant it. When we see each other again, I want to try new things.”

Andrew clears his throat. “I’d like that.”

Steven tugs the blanket up closer to his ears and ignores how his room smells like sex and sweat. “Two weeks, three days,” he says.

The smile is clear again in Andrew’s voice. “Two weeks, three days,” he agrees.

“Can’t wait,” Steven adds.

“Me either.”

**Author's Note:**

> i'm taking prompts, check me out on [tumblr](http://punk-rock-yuppie.tumblr.com/post/175972711561/taking-requests)!


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